If you can thinke these flatteries, they are,
50For then your judgement is below my praise,
If they were so, oft, flatteries worke as farre,
As Counsels, and as farre th'endeavour raise.
So my ill reaching you might there grow good,
But I remaine a poyson'd fountaine still;
55But not your beauty, vertue, knowledge, blood
Are more above all flattery, then my will.
And if I flatter any,'tis not you